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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27753202">I felt like writing down The Arcana bc I never have enough keys</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/howTHEFUCKdoyouspellrefigerator/pseuds/howTHEFUCKdoyouspellrefigerator'>howTHEFUCKdoyouspellrefigerator</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Arcana (Visual Novel), the arcana</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, F/M, Gender-nonspecific Y/N, M/M, Nyx Hydra, the arcana game, y/n</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:00:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,580</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27753202</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/howTHEFUCKdoyouspellrefigerator/pseuds/howTHEFUCKdoyouspellrefigerator</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Much of this storyline, and the characters, are property of Nyx Hydra. I just basically wanted to have a version of The Arcana I could read anytime, rather than waiting for keys to refill. I'm trying to keep the apprentice a gender non-specific Y/N. I've just started the game so I will add more love interests as I get to them. I have also twisted minor plot elements and dialogue — this is by no means an exact transcription of the game.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana), Apprentice/Nadia (The Arcana), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Prolouge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi. I am new to the game. Please don't be mad if I misremember anything haha. Also, if you have any fic requests, I'm happy to oblige. Lmk if I'm doing anything wrong, hope you like it! (Also I have no idea how to format things on A03 please yell at me if it's straight ass).</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I know more about my country than I do myself, but that isn’t saying much about my patriotism. It’s easy to know more about Vesuvia than about your own life when you a) live in the capital city and b) have no memories older than the past three years. I know my name, and that I have powerful intuition for the cards. I’m dependent on my Master, Asra, for any and all information about my cloudy path, and he is not particularly forthcoming. Take today, for example. He was off right before sunset, hat pulled down low over his eyes and scarf across his mouth, saying that he suddenly had to travel. Saying “a moonless night is the best time to begin journeys”. To some mystical destination, no doubt, to cast spells and meet strange beasts and read old books. That’s the most I ever know about his adventures. He is always intentionally vague about things like location and purpose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s because I’m his apprentice, not his equal, and he doesn’t want to take me and my three years’ worth of experience anywhere that really matters. My magic usage only ever occurs in the city, mostly within our little shop. It’s high time I close up — the sun’s set while I’ve been sulking. I walk around the perimeter of the little place that doubles as our business practice and home, absentmindedly checking the surrounding wards. I’m heading up the stairs to our lofted apartment when there’s a knock at the door. I pause on the stairs, heaving a big sigh and heaving my eyes skyward. I’ve had a long day, I’m sad Asra left me here, and I just want to eat something. But I turn around and descend, brightening at the idea that Asra could be the one at the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I swing it open with a big smile, and even though I know it can’t be him since he has a key, my face still falls when I see who’s on the other side of the door. The imperious woman there must have noticed my disappointment at seeing her, because she raises an incredulous eyebrow. I straighten up, clearing my throat, and hoping she doesn’t call the guards on me for impudence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Countess Nadia,” I manage, “We are honored. Please, come in.” She’s only a year or two older than me, but she’s already been made a wife and a widow. She came from Pravka, where she was one of seven princesses, to marry Vesuvia’s Count Lucio, a handsome, brash fox of a man who ruled with a stern but steady hand. A golden hand, that is. I’ve seen paintings of the late count, who lost his right arm in battle and had it replaced with one of gold. He was a handsome, powerful looking blond, and very young to be a ruler. He was also very young to die, but he did, a few years ago, while the city was already suffering under the plague that was sweeping through the country. His young Countess Nadia’s been left to rule an unfamiliar court alone, and it looks like the strain is getting to her. She has poorly covered up circles under her eyes and looks nervous and strained as I guide her to the little room in the back of the shop where we take clients. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is Asra here?” Nadia asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m sorry. He was called away on business,” I responded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll do, then,” she sighs. “I need you to read my cards.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t bother telling her that we’re closed for the night. When the most powerful person in a city gives an order, you follow it. I remove my deck of tarot cards from a shelf and sit down across from the countess, studying her as I shuffle them. It’s not every day that you’re face to face with royalty. Nadia is dark-skinned, like most Pravkans, with a long statuesque nose and a sharp face of sharp curves. Her eyebrows draw perfectly over her eyes, and her mouth is full and strong. Her hair is impossible to miss, its ombre purple mass flowing in waves down from the small gem circlet about her head. Her hands, folded across her elegant dress, are delicate and long on top of rich, faintly see-through white fabric, covered more fully by a thick purple over-dress that’s secured by a corset. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I spread the 78 cards in a wide arc on the table in between us. I open my mouth to explain her part in the ritual, but she’s already closing her eyes and stretching out her hand. She’s very familiar with this, and I wonder if she’s patronized Asra in the dead of night before. I’m suddenly irritated at him again. Nadia drifts her hand over the cards until she’s drawn three for me to look at. I turn over the first one and begin to interpret. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Death, upright. An indication of significant change, even to the point of reversal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reversal?” Nadia asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Other cards, like….like the wheel of fortune, for example, also indicate change. But you can imagine that kind of change as a branching off from a path. Death is part of the cycle of life, right? It’s — cyclical. And it’s very black and white. You’re either dead or you’re not. So other cards can indicate a turn on the path of your life, but the death card is almost like turning around and walking back down the path a little bit.” I shrug helplessly. “At least, that’s what I’m getting from your cards.” I don’t know how reading the cards work. I just look at them until I see something that feels right. Nadia is sitting in silence, her posture perfect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This means that a period of time is ending, and a new phase of time is beginning,” I continue hesitantly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reversal,” she says, as if she didn’t hear me. “Death, and reversal of something that already happened.” She laughs, and starts to stand. I awkwardly jump up after her, leaving her other cards on the table. I hurry after her as she sweeps through the shop to the door. In its frame, she turns. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come to the palace tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before I can answer, she’s gone in a graceful swoop of silks, the door banging shut behind her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wish Asra was here. I don’t know what to do about lone, off-putting beautiful countesses who arrive and disappear in a blink. I don’t like it, and I lock the door tight before heading upstairs at last. I manage to make myself a simple dinner without further interruption, but my night is far from over.    </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m tidying up for the night when I hear the squeal of a door hinge, freezing me in my tracks. I turn to face the stairs as quickly as I can. Now I really wish Asra was here. I tell myself I imagined the noise, but I know I won’t be able to sleep unless I check. As I advance down the stairs, I hear a thump and see the flare of flickering light. Belatedly, I clap my hand over my mouth in an attempt to muffle my gasp. Someone or something is moving around downstairs. I left the tarot out on the table, and this is my punishment for leaving the reading unfinished. I dearly want to hide upstairs until Asra returns, but I can’t let this intruder pilfer our livelihood. Grabbing a convenient pet rock in my hand, I round the bottom of the staircase. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The light is coming from a lantern on the table in the back room, which I can barely see around a tall, ominously dark figure in flowing black robes. He must feel my eyes on the back of his head, because he spins, leaving me to face my own reflection in his silver doctor’s mask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh — ah, hello,” he manages, taking a step towards me. I raise my weapon and he halts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is Asra around?” He sure gets a lot of callers, the one night he’s been gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” I say, as sternly as I can manage. “Get out or I’ll scream, and you’ll be arrested for robbery.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, I’m not robbing anyone,” he says, advancing. I raise my rock, but he doesn’t stop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You see I have a key to this shop.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No you don’t!” I cry incredulously, backing up nervously. “Get — get away!” My voice cracks and he keeps coming, arms outstretched. It’s not a particularly disarming gesture when the user is well over six feet and backing you towards the wall. I hurl my rock, and he barely manages to flinch in time. I catch him a glancing blow. He stumbles, and I run to the door, grabbing a walking stick and holding it like a spear. The intruder straightens, his mask knocked askew down around his neck. For the second time in a matter of minutes, I gasp aloud. I’ve seen him before. Red hair, hooked nose, thin face, tall frame. A doctor, missing his right eye. He’s been on warning posters in the town square for years — ever since he murdered Count Lucio. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s not be hasty,” he says pleadingly. I’m already trying to fumble open the door behind my back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a murderer, you know! I’m an old, old friend of Asra’s!” My native intuition gives me pause, despite my fear. Looking at his face as he says the words, I can believe it. Asra has a lot of strange friends, and not all of them on the right side of the law. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look,” Julian says, scooping his mask off the floor and backing up. “I’m already gone.” He opens the back door and departs through it as if he knows the shop inside and out. Maybe that’s why I don’t go to the lawmen. I’m thinking about the card I drew earlier this evening. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sudden change</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I can taste it looming in the air. I need to talk to Asra. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Prologue Part II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hi y'all, another chapter, still covering the prologue events but with a bit more plot complication in terms of political intrigue. It's time to meet Portia! And though you've already met Nadia last night, an interaction with today starts off on the wrong foot.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There's at least another chapter of prologue after this, but I've written ahead and things get ~juicy~. <br/>And again, though I've written fan fiction for a while, this is my first time actually posting it, so please critique me, I won't be offended. Enjoy &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next morning dawns bright, hot, and ordinary. Asra has not yet returned, which is to be expected, but part of me was hoping he somehow would. I’ve been to the palace once or twice before, to assist him when he was called there on some magical business. The thought of walking into those shining spires alone is dauntless. Still, I can’t ignore a Countess. So, after a quick breakfast, I lock up the shop and begin trekking through the streets. Vesuvia is a bustling, happy little town, a center of trade among the country it’s named for and it’s neighbors. I pass rows of houses, stables, and vendors and I wend my way towards the palace. At least I won’t have to ask for directions. From anywhere in the city, and even from the surrounding lands, you can see the sun glinting off of the palace. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When I reach the gates, it’s past noon, and my heart rises in my throat as I approach the guards. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was sent to meet the Countess?” I say. One of the guards shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry miss, no can do. Can’t have anyone walking in and seeing the countess.” I fidget, unsure of what I’m supposed to do now. Mercifully, salvation comes, in the form of a curvy little redhead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lucreto! She’s with me.” I’m allowed to pass. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” I say gratefully to my companion, before she cuts me off with a stream of chatter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My name’s Portia, and I’m one of milady’s chiefs of household. Come with me, apprentice. The Countess will be happy for an excuse to leave her meeting with her courtiers. They’re a very unique bunch. But I’m so glad to meet you. I was never around any of the times you and the magician came to the palace before…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Portia leads me through winding hallways filled with busy-looking people of all ages and manners of dress. I feel a bit uncomfortable, trudging along after Portia in my plain tunic. Portia, on the other hand, is in her element. As we pass people, she alternately barks orders or exchanges happy greetings. Once, another servant runs up to her and is agitatedly telling her about something, trotting after her as she strides along, telling him what to do. The second time this happens, she stops and sighs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry Y/N, but there’s something I’ve apparently got to attend to right away. Wait right here, it won’t take but a moment.” She deposits me to the side of the large hall we’re in, at the base of a staircase that is comparatively traffic-free. I press my back against one of the banisters, hoping no one notices me standing about cluelessly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’m only there a minute before I hear movement on the stairs behind me. I turn, ready to get out of the way, but it’s only two white dogs, with lolling tongues and long snouts. One of them nuzzles me; the other takes my hem in its mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.” I say gently. “Please don’t do that.” The dogs are insistent. The other one circles up behind me, pushing against my legs until I almost fall. I take a lurching step onto the first stair to catch myself, but the dogs are relentless. I oblige them. They’re not going to take no for an answer, and I can’t arrive before Nadia with my clothes all torn. Besides, I’m a little curious. This wing of the busy, noisy palace is empty and echoing. Why’s there no one here? Is it the faint smell of ash in the air? Portraits of blond men are hung down the walls. Cobwebs are in the corners. Maybe I’ve wandered into the storage area of the palace. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as I’m thinking that this space is only mundane, I see a flicker of movement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello?” I don’t get a response. I back slowly towards the stairs, aware that I’m probably not supposed to be wandering secluded areas of the palace, poking my nose where it doesn’t belong. I hustle down the stairs just as Portia is rounding a corner and calling to me. As she pulls me along, I glance up the staircase again, and I think I see a flash of white, like someone was up there, watching me. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nadia is sitting on a shaded veranda, looking out over the garden. She’s leaning back on a chaise, sipping a mug of something and looking a little more put together than she did last night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, Y/N.” She smiles, beckoning for me to join her on the chaise. I feel a little awkward, and perch on the very end.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You wanted to see me, Countess?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need you to do something for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Countess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Normally, I would ask your mentor for assistance in such a matter, but I’m unwilling to wait until he returns. I’m sure that you’re more than skilled enough to aid me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Is she trying to flatter me? There’s not really any need. I couldn’t dare to say no if I wanted to. “What do you need, my lady?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sighs heavily. “I need you to help me find someone. Some sort of...tracking spell, or directional sensor, or something like that. I haven’t had luck through normal means.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who, my lady?” Who could be beyond the reach of a countess?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doctor Devorak.” I struggle to keep a poker face. Devorak...that was the name of the man on the missing posters. The man who had murdered Nadia’s husband. The man who I had seen last night in the shop. There’s no way that Nadia knows, right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your husband’s murderer, right?” I manage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. He — he lit my husband’s room on fire.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’ve got no response. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Julian was the palace’s physician,” Nadia sighs, looking off into the gardens. “He had unlimited, unquestioned access to my husband, at all hours.” She hesitates, like she’s unsure whether she should continue. “My husband was...ill.” She says carefully. I understand what she means. The plague may have been years ago, but it still had substantially disrupted the country, and it had cost thousands and thousands of lives. Even today, people did not like to talk about it, or the loved ones who they’d watched suffer for months before succumbing. So, the Count had been dying of the plague. Why kill him, then? There had been no cure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can barely remember that night,” Nadia says distantly. “It was the masquerade; the very first night of celebrations. I was so excited to finally relax and have some fun. My whole family had been invited for the festivities. It was supposed to be one of the best nights of my life, Lucio promised. Instead, he retired early, and... I hardly remember it. I just can’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” I say cautiously. Everyone is aware that Lucio and Nadia’s marriage was arranged, for the sake of both of their countries. I didn’t expect her to look so troubled while talking about his three-years-past death. I want to comfort her, like I would a friend. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“May I ask...why now? It’s been three years since your husband died. Why not ask me — or Asra — to find Julian sooner?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nadia bites her lip. “Because I remain slightly unconvinced that Julian was the murderer. He is a gambler, and a crook, and a boor, but I never thought he’d be a murderer. Still, my judgement of his character could be wrong. But even then, Julian was a physician. Why in the world use fire? I’m sure there were half a dozen other ways he could have killed my husband, probably in ways that would have made his death look natural. No one would suspect murder, sick as Lucio was. I don’t understand how Julian could be my husband’s murderer. But...he is the only suspect, at the present.” She places a certain emphasis on her last words, giving me a meaningful look. I think I understand. Nadia, the Count’s spouse, also would have had easy and constant access to Lucio. And, unlike Julian, she’d have far more of a motive, since the Count’s death had made her ruler. If Julian was cleared of the crime, then suspicion would inevitably fall on Nadia. Still, I don’t understand why she’d wait three years. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nadia sees my confusion. “I...I am a ruler. I have obligations...political struggles. A certain amount of strategy is needed. One of the members of my court is lobbying for Julian to be brought to justice. In exchange, they’ll provide a vote I need in council for another matter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’m sickened, and I hope it doesn’t show on my face, but I can’t just nod and smile along with this. “You said yourself that it didn’t make sense for Julian to do it.” Can she really condemn a man she believes innocent to death for the sake of her politics? Nadia hears the bite in my words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Apprentice, listen. I understand and share your concern. I am not bringing Julian back here to be hung. I simply need the murder wrapped up before the upcoming Masquerade.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But that’s the penalty, isn’t it? Killing a ruler is treason. He’ll be hanged.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I intend to kill two birds with one stone. I’ll arrest Julian, as I promised my...associate. But I’ll also take the chance to solidify Vesuvia’s legal system. Julian will be given a fair trial before any punishment is meted out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what if the trial determines that it was him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They won’t,” she says with false confidence. I’m angry with her. A pretty face, a lifetime of wealth, and she thinks that she can mete out her so-called justice however she wants. I feel betrayed, because I had started to like her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very well, my lady,” I say cooly. “I’d be happy to assist you in whatever way you require.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, please, call me Naida,” she smiles. As if she hasn’t just ordered me to help her kill a man who may be innocent. “I’ll have Portia show you to your rooms.” So I’m to stay here, within her domain. Probably in case I was thinking about slinking away from the city instead of finding Doctor Devorak. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Portia appears silently in the doorway and escorts me towards my rooms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve got to get to the shop,” I tell her. "There's stuff there that I’ll need if I’m to — help the Countess.” Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice the tension that I’m feeling. “That’s fine,” she beams. “Will you need any help?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” I hastily answer. I need time to think; time to be alone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, let me know if that changes.” She hovers as if she wants to say something more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I — ugh, I shouldn’t say this, it’s unprofessional. But — you look like you could use some kindness. You must have had a long day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She removes a pomegranate from a pocket and hands it to me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” I say, surprised. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hope it puts a smile on your face!” She bustles away, leaving me with a pomegranate, my thoughts, and the unpleasant task ahead of me.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Stranger's Book</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Inside the shop, I sink down on the stool behind the front counter. Portia said she’d arrange for a carriage to be sent to pick me up and convey me back to the palace. I’m exhausted by my long trek through the city, and I’m stressed about the conversation I had with Nadia. For one thing, Intuition is my strong suit, not magic. Everyone calls me a magician because Asra is one. He can read the cards and perform the occasional green magic, but he’s always gravitated towards spell casting. He’s a magician, not a diviner or a hypnotist or a psychic. Meanwhile, I’ve yet to find my specialty.<br/>
I’m also worried about the ethics of using magic to do what Nadia wants. Asra has schooled me long and hard about considering why I’m using my abilities and the potential effects. Our world is rife with various magic users, from wizards on the far continent to the fortune tellers in our own market, and not all of them use their abilities judiciously. I’ve been careful to only use magical means for necessary and above broad purposes. No matter how powerful you are, there’s always a cost for those who have exploited magic. I don’t think that a magical being is going to appear and drag me into their realm just for finding a man that someone else might put to death, but it’s still iffy. If there’s a way out of this, I’m going to take it. But in the meantime...I wander the shop, collecting the ingredients I’ll need in order to find a wayward doctor. I finish up earlier than I thought I would, and I decide to wait outside for the expected carriage. I lock the door and then lean against it, arms wrapped around my satchel. Vesuvia is settling in for the evening around me, laborers in dirty clothes walking to their homes as the bar down the street is beginning to turn on its lights. I’m homesick, but I don’t know what for. As the sunset begins to appear in the sky, a hulking figure approaches me. I turn, thinking him a potential customer. A magic shop gets a lot of strange people, and this gentleman certainly fits that profile.<br/>
He’s massively built, towering over the other passers-by. His muscle-bound chest and his shadowed face are both matted with old scars. He’s swaddled in a black cloak and thick furs, as if he's trying to hide his face, but he just looks bigger and more noticeable. Long black hair falls out from under his hood, obscuring cutting green eyes.<br/>
“Can I help you?” I ask, a little intimidated.<br/>
The stranger glances up and down the street and then steps closer to me.<br/>
“You’re in danger,” he says in a gravelly voice. “At least, I think that you’re going to be. Someone’s looking for you, I can sense it.” Sense it? Is he an animal magician?<br/>
“And why were you looking at me in the first place, to even notice that?” I say tartly. He doesn’t meet my eyes.<br/>
“It doesn’t matter. You just need to know that you need to pay attention. There’s red eyes watching you. It’s a male presence, and he’s been watching you, and he’s going to continue.”<br/>
I have no idea how to respond. He doesn’t look like a crazy, but he’s prophesying nonsense.<br/>
“Listen to me,” he’s saying urgently. “You’re not going to remember me, but you have to remember to be wary.”<br/>
“Ok,” I say, shaken and hoping to placate this beast of a man. He looks rapidly around again, and then melts down an alleyway, leaving nothing behind but a faint smell of myrrh. It, too, fades, and...what was I thinking about again? Before I can recollect my thoughts, the carriage Portia sent for me is turning the corner. I get into it distractedly, happy to be off the street due to a lingering sense of unexplained unease.</p><p>Back at the palace, I put my things into my room before wandering out into the garden. It’s not very late yet, and I’m too restless to sleep anyways, despite how busy my past day and night have been. I wander the garden, breathing in the perfume of summer flowers, until I find a likely looking tree to plop down against. It’s thick and old, so that I can turn and lean a shoulder against it, the pleasantly rough bark against my cheek. My eyes wander the length of the tree, looking at the shadows cast by the distant garden lanterns. There’s something etched into the bark there. Ugh. I hate when people feel the need to cut their own ugly mark into a tree...I straighten up suddenly; it’s my name carved into the tree. <br/>“No way.” I mutter. I’d never write this. Well, my name isn’t that uncommon in Vesuvia. But when I trace my fingers over the letters, I feel the familiar hum of Asra’s magic. What the hell? We’ve never come here before. And why would Asra carve my name instead of his own? A shape slithers down the bole of the tree towards my hand. I pull back, getting out of the creature’s way, but as it moves into the lamplight I can see that the snake is purple and familiar. Asra’s familiar, in fact. <br/>“Faust? What are you doing here?”<br/>She presses against my hand, and in my mind I feel friend!<br/>“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to see you. But why are you in the palace garden instead of travelling with Asra?”<br/>Watch.<br/>“You’re watching the palace? Why?”<br/>Friend. <br/>“You — you’re watching me?”<br/>Another friend, more affirming. I’m miffed. Either Asra didn’t trust me to be able to get through a few days without ruining the shop; or he interpreted that upheaval was coming and then decided to leave anyway. <br/>“I can’t lie, it’s nice to have a friendly face,” I sigh. Faust winds up onto my shoulder. She’s distracted me from my name on the tree, but I’m loath to sit back down there. It’s unsettling, so I stroll through the garden. I follow the nearest lit path to its nearby end, where there’s a low fountain. I sit on the ground next to it, leaning my elbows on the rim. Faust pokes her head up next to mine, staring at our reflections. <br/>Asra? <br/>“Asra.” I mumble back. It takes another second of starting at myself to realize what Faust meant. I’ve practiced water-based communication before, but never without knowing where the other person was. I take off my emerald necklace, a gift from Asra, and I dunk it into the water, closing my eyes and concentrating hard on Asra. <br/>“Name?”<br/>I open my eyes and laugh. Asra’s staring up and me from the pool, his image warped by the emerald necklace in the water. <br/>“Is everything alright?”<br/>I sigh. I’m an awful liar, so I say “no”. <br/>“Are you ok? I see Faust...where are you?”<br/>“Asra, I’m fine. Just...a lot has happened. I’m at the palace right now.”<br/>“Oh?” he says carefully.<br/>“Yes,” I sigh, resting my forehead on my hands. “Nadia came by the shop late last night for a reading. And then she summoned me here. I’m supposed to help her find Doctor Devorak, so he can be put on trial for killing Count Lucio.” I don’t dare say more — about how worn Nadia looked on my stoop, how Julian was in the shop, how he may be innocent and how Nadia knows it. I’ve never spent time in the palace before, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize that there are always nosy ears about. Asra seems to sense my hesitation. <br/>“But you’re alright?”<br/>“Yes, I’m fine. Just...confused. About...a lot of different magical questions.” I bite my lip, and I see understanding on Asra’s face.<br/>“Do I need to come back?”<br/>“No! No, don’t ruin your trip. It’s nothing urgent. Everyone’s really nice here.” He raises an eyebrow at my obvious lie. <br/>“Well, Portia is.” I amend.<br/>“Listen, I’m going to try to make my trip as quick as possible. I ran into an old friend of mine, they did a reading for me and predicted, I quote, ‘tumultuous times up ahead’. I want to get home in time to weather them with you. Faust will keep you safe in the mean time, right girl? I miss you. I miss you both.<br/>“I miss you too. Don’t worry, I’ll keep Faust in line.” <br/>He laughs, and his image ripples and vanishes. It’s hard to keep up a connection for more than a few minutes. At least I know he’s ok, and he knows that there’s trouble brewing with the palace. Comforted slightly, I head to bed.</p><p>Notes: Hi I am sorry I literally forgot about posting this but I have a bunch more written. Are ppl actually reading this? Should I continue? I mean I'm going to anyway for myself lol</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Nadia's Book II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>HAHA MORE ROMANCE TIMEEEEE Yeah this is not exactly an accurate retelling of the second book for Nadia bc I straight up don't remember what happens when and in the interest of deepening characters I am ~tweaking~ events as I choose bc the world is my oyster baybeeeee</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun rises early the next morning, but I rise late. I intended to fumble around with my magic for a while so that Nadia thinks she’s getting her money’s worth, but I already have a huge leg up in my search for the murderer. The Doctor must still be in the city. He wouldn’t have come here, risking his life, if it wasn’t important. He was looking for Asra, or something Asra took with him. Why else would Julian acquiesce and leave the shop, rather than just overpowering me and stealing whatever he had come there for? Asra’s not back yet, so Julian hasn’t gotten whatever he needs. Rather than bother with an enchantment to find him, I’ll wander down into the city around the shop. I’m certain he’s still lurking somewhere hereabouts. <br/>	At midmorning, there’s a knock on my door. It’s Portia, summoning me to join Countess Nadia in her library. When I enter, she’s reclining in a chair, dressed in a white shift and a green shawl. <br/>She smiles up at me as I come in. “You look positively radiant.”<br/>“As do you, Countess.”<br/>“Please, call me Nadia.”<br/>I nod and take the chair across from her.<br/>“Do you read, apprentice?”<br/>Again I nod, and I see a flicker of well-hidden surprise on her face. She’s a professional, after all. <br/>“Somehow, I am not surprised, despite how woefully uncommon it is here.” She stretched a languid, brown arm out to point at a nearly desk, where folios and scrolls have been neatly stacked. <br/>“These are the Doctor’s things. He was employed here at the palace to find a cure for the plague, alongside your Master Asra. Of course, no cure was ever found.”<br/>Even with all the resources of the palace, research improved little. There was no way to tell who would become ill and who would not, and even the most stringent quarantine protocols had no effect on the spread. The plague faded out on its own, which was a mercy. It’s said that there were times where you couldn’t walk the streets without hearing the cries of grieving families and seeing passers-by with the telltale red in the whites of their eyes, their pupils dwarfed by the bright color around them.<br/>	“These materials have already been thoroughly examined, of course, but maybe you’ll find something new. I trust you to conduct this investigation.” She sweeps out of the room, leaving me to find a murderer.<br/>	In the afternoon, I head down to the shop and open it for a few hours, doing a modest bit of business. After I close up the shop, thankfully still intact and not pilfered by a lanky and possibly murderous doctor, I decide to check in at the bar down the street. Maybe someone’s seen a doctor in the area. Evening is falling as I walk up to the bar, which is already doing a roaring business. I sidestep a courtesan to squeeze in the door, beneath the sign emblazoned with a drunken raven. Instantly, I crash into an exiting patron and rebound back, looking up at my obstacle. It is a considerably shocked Julian Devorak, holding a pint and looking for all the world like he’s carefree. He laughs and steers me quickly inside to a corner table. <br/>	“Care for a drink, young apprentice?” He says with a grin.<br/>	“You’re an idiot.” I respond.<br/>	“Pardon?” He grins wider.<br/>	“You’re in the middle of a crowded bar, maskless, drinking and generally cavorting, while you’re one of the most wanted criminals in Vesuvia.”<br/>	“Ah, that’s all right.” He waves his hand. “Nearly everyone’s criminals, here.”<br/>I take a second look around the bar. Sure enough, many of its patrons are better armed than this area of the city would merit. <br/>	“Honor among thieves, huh?”<br/>He pouts. “I’m not even a thief.”<br/>“No. You’re a murderer. You understand that that’s worse, right?”<br/>His grin sinks off of his face. <br/>“Yes, I suppose I am. I’ve killed more people than you probably know.”<br/>I stand up stiffly, ready to get out of this dingy place and find the closest guard. I don’t get the chance. A raven bursts in through an open window, cawing mightily and circling above the guests, who look up and then throw down their tankards, cards, and companions in a mad dash for the exits. I chase Julian through the back, into an alley. <br/>“Sorry, apprentice,” he grins, jogging backwards away from me. “But it’s high time that I cut and run.” He wheels and takes off down the alley, vanishing into the fog. I know it’s pointless to chase him. He’s a foot taller than me, for one thing, and then what am I going to do when I catch him? Tackle him and haul him bodily back to the guards? Disappointed, I trudge back in the direction of the palace.<br/>	I arrive just in time for dinner with the Countess. It’s just her and I, at a candle-lit table. <br/>“Any progress?” <br/>I make a noncommital shrug. <br/>“Well, there’s still time before the Masquerade. Speaking of time, are you free tomorrow? Much of the court would like to meet you. And allow me to give you a word of warning, since I know you are accustomed to the quiet, pleasant life of a shopkeep.” I can’t tell if I’m being insulted or not. “The palace is a place of power. And that means it is a place of constant intrigue, bargaining, and agendas. When you meet the courtiers tomorrow, be conscious that it is hard to make friends in a political arena; and it is unwise to trust even your friends.” I am surprised by the note of seriousness in her voice. <br/>“Thank you, countess. I will remember your advice.”<br/>“And tomorrow, it will be announced throughout town that the Masquerade will occur this year, alongside the Doctor’s hanging.” <br/>Across the room, there’s the sound of shattering glass. We both turn to look at Portia, who was quietly preparing the after-dinner wine. <br/>“Apologies, my lady, apprentice. I was clumsy. I’ll see about getting this cleaned up immediately" With a guileless smile, she turns and leaves the room. Nadia turns back towards me. <br/>“I know I just cautioned you against making friends in the palace, but… I desire that we come to know each other better. A friendship between us could be...advantageous, for the both of us. Will you join me on the verandah to enjoy our wine?” She extends a hand towards me, and I take it, albeit with a slight hesitation. I’m put off by her obvious attempts to build a bond. She wants something from me, I’m sure of it, I just don’t know what. <br/>	Out on the verandah, we have an impressive view of the gardens, the distant lights of the city, and the more distant lights of the stars above. I’ve never had much aptitude for astrology, but the night sky is breathtaking even when you don’t understand it. Nadia pats the loveseat next to her, and I sit. She turns to the side table, and takes two glasses of wine. We sip in silence, looking out over the lamp-lit gardens, until I’m aware of Nadia’s gaze on me.<br/>	“You are...different.” She says almost shyly. “I have met many practitioners of every magical art. But when you read my cards….I believed you more than I have believed any other tarot reader.” <br/>Something about the privacy of our surroundings, or the lilt of her low voice, is making me nervous. I hastily take another sip of my wine, and Nadia pours herself a second glass. Between this and the wine that was served with dinner, my head is pleasantly buzzing. <br/>“Why did you come to the palace?” The Countess asks.<br/>“You asked me.” <br/>“You could have said no. You could have told me to wait until Asra returned.” <br/>She’s right. I could have said no; could've claimed magical inadequacy; could've directed her to one of the smaller, magic-adjacent fortune tellers in the market. Nadia is one of the most powerful women in the city, but she’s no tyrant. Why did I agree to come?<br/>“Maybe you are just...obedient.” Nadia continues. “It makes me wonder what I could ask you to do for me.” Her breath is a whisper at my neck. Am I being seduced? Does Nadia want something from me, or does she...want me? She is very close to me, and she reaches out and places a hand on my thigh as she turns to face me more fully. My cheeks are burning and every bit of my body is fully awake. I turn to face her, our mouths a bare inch apart. She reaches up, placing a hand in my hair. She leans in, and I begin to lower my eyelids and tilt my head. She kisses me just on the corner of my mouth, and then pulls back, turning away to sip her wine. I shut my lips, gobsmacked. Did I just kiss the Countess? I want to lean in and kiss her again, tangling my fingers in her purple hair and moving my lips across her smooth skin. Instead, Portia comes to the door as if she’s been summoned, and leads me back to my rooms. It takes me a long, long time to fall asleep. </p><p>author's note: god I am so gay</p>
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